


For The Throne

by Queen_Rhaenas_Favourite



Category: game of thrones
Genre: Arya and Dany are best friends, Nymeria comes back, Rewrite, Season 8, The Long Night, d&d are awful, not enough deaths tbh, sorry if you liked them, what should have happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-10-26 04:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20736221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_Rhaenas_Favourite/pseuds/Queen_Rhaenas_Favourite
Summary: How the long night should have ended. How the North would really react to Daenerys after she saved them.Davos wakes up after being nocked our during the battle, he and some of the other survivors try to piece together whats happened, but when they decide to tell those in the crypts the good new, a horrifying discovery is made.





	1. The dawn

When Davos opened his eyes, the world was black. He thought for a moment that he had gone blind, and the pain shooting through his skull did little to ease those thoughts. With a shaking hand he reached up and felt the back of his head, then bringing his hand in front of his face and blessedly, he could still see the vague outline as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the night around him. Less blessedly however, as his hand vacate more detailed before him he could see there was blood on his fingers from the would they had touched on the back of his head. The concussion he had sustained during the battle was what had kept him alive, but it also now made him very confused as he woke up. Slowly he began to remember where he was, Winterfell, and why he was there. Fear took him now. He looked out into the rest of the castle courtyard expecting to see a battlefield, wights and walkers and friends, all fighting and dying, some more than once. But there was nothing.  
It took him longer than it normally did for him to stand and bruh himself off, though that was understandable given that he had only recently received a near fatal blow to the head. Once he was upright, he could see more clearly and, with the aid of his sword as a walking stick, was able to limp further into the winterfell courtyard.  
To his relief, the first person Davos saw as he entered a clearing was Jon Snow. The former king in the north was standing with his sword in hand, staring down at the Night Kings dragon, which was now nothing more than a pile of frozen bones.  
“Jon,” the old smuggler called, “what…” He could not find the words. He remembered what had been said at the meeting a few hours previously, that if the Night King died, so would all those who followed him. “Did you do it?” He was finally able to ask.  
The young man shook his head, he was exhausted. “No, I… I thought… someone else must have, I don’t know who.”  
At that moments, a strong wind hit them both from above. When the two men looked up, they saw the great shape of Drogon flying above them. Even in this darkness, Davos expected to be able to see the Queens silver hair as she sat atop the great beast, but to both his and Jon shock, she was not there.  
Jon’s face paled. “Oh God no, Dany.” The king threw his sword back into its scabbard and ran after the winged shadow which could now be seen with a greater degree of clarity, as the pale grey light of dawn began to creep over the distant mountains.  
Once Jon and the dragon had disappeared from his sight, Davos began to wonder whether he should search for any survivors, when he caught something moving out of the corner of his eye. His head whipped round and his hand moved instinctively to his sword belt, only to discover that his sword was gone, and then remembered that even if he had it, he was a terrible swordsman. That would not be too much of an issue however, as he saw that what was moving was not a wight or a walker, but the Red Woman, Melisandre.  
Davos followed her as she walked back to the castle gates, her red skirts floating over the corpses at her feet, caressing them. There was no wind, but her hair and sleeves and skirts still seemed to blow out behind her. As she walked out of the outer gate, Davis saw her reach up to her neck and remove something. It was her necklace.

Once the sun had fully begun to rise, Davos walked back to where Viserions skeleton lay. On his way he saw Ser Brienne and her squire, Podrick, standing with their backs to a wall and a mountain of dead eights beneath them. By the looks of it, the both of them were asleep standing up, and Davos did not blame them.  
In the courtyard, Davos found Jon again. He was supporting the queen, holding her as she looked down at the skull of her dead child. Daenerys has been crying, Davos could tell, and she looked like to do so again, as did Jon. A short distance away, the onion knight could see the lad, Gendry, staggering over to the forge.  
Suddenly, the castle grew much lighter, and all those who had migrated to the courtyard to see what was happening turned and looked towards what was causing it. The sun had risen behind the mountains. Now, the cold white light of the winter sun split the darkness that they had been trapped in.  
Davos smiled at the light, he welcomed the dawn. Turning back to look at the castle, his eyes found Jons. His king nodded to him, and he nodded back. The Queen looked up at the motion too, and gave Davos a small smile, that did not reach her sad, violet eyes. No one in Winterfell was speaking. There were no words that could help at that moment.  
The mournful silence was soon broken, though, by a shout from the forge. Gendry ran out and ever person watching reached for the nearest item to defend themselves with. There was no need to be afraid, not when they saw who Gendry was running towards. Arya stark walked in from the Godswood, pushing her brother Brandon, in his special chair.  
Gendry ran past Bran, also nocking him off his chair, and straight into Arya. The young blacksmith hugged the little lady and showed no signs of letting go. Davos feared that Gendry was smothering the poor girl but as he walked closer he could clearly see her skinny arms wrapped around him, evidently just as happy to see him and he was to see her. Beside Davos, Jon and Daenerys has appeared, and the look on Jon’s face was one that would have been the funniest thing in the world at any normal time.  
“Arya.” Her brother called, and Gendry was forced to release her. “What happened?” Realisation set in as Jon looked to Bran, then Arya, then all the thousands of bodies littering the floor. “It was you, you did it?”  
Arya nodded  
“How?” In response, the girl pulled a very handsome and expensive looking dagger out of her sword belt, and handed it holt first to Jon. Before the battle began, Davos probably wouldn’t have believed anyone if they had told him that Arya Stark, who was still half a child in age and appearance, had killed the Night King. During the battle however, Davos had witnessed first hand Aryas skill at fighting and was now fully able to believe that this woman had ended the battle.  
Jon laughed under his breath as did Arya, and even Daenerys beside him smiled. Gendry looked as though he was going to kiss Arya right then and there but thankful he restrained himself. The courtyard grew quiet again until Bran asked whether anyone had checked on the people in the crypts yet. No one had.  
Davos has the keys to the crypts so he was the one to open the doors and lead the way down. Arya was behind him and clearly very excited to be seeing her sister again. Now that they were away from all the dead, their voices returned to them.  
“Were you both on the dragons for the whole battle?” Arya asked back over her shoulder to Daenerys who was behind her, and Jon who was behind her.  
“Most of it,” Jon replied, “the Night King attacked us in the air, Rhaegal was wounded in the fight and had to land, well, he crashed and I fell off.” Jon redirected his comments to the queen now. “I’m no dragon expert but his neck and face were fine, and he was definitely alive when I fell. I’m sure he’ll be fine with some rest.”  
Daenerys nodded “He will be, he’s strong.” It was quiet again for a moment and Davos wondered who the Queen had lost to leave her like this.  
“And you, your grace.” Davos wasn’t sure if he should pry but the crypts gave him the creeps and he didn’t want to be there in silence. “I did not see you on the black one at the end, I must admit I feared for your life.”  
“Yes,” He was getting a reply, that was good, “we landed by the gate later in the battle and the wights tried to climb onto Drogon. He shook them off but I fell of as well and there was no time to remount.”  
Davos might have questioned her further but they had come to the entrance to the main crypts. Arya nocked on the door. “Sansa, it’s Arya, we won you can come out!”  
There was no reply.  
“Sansa!” It was Jon who called this time. Again, no reply.  
Davos looked through his keys but Jon stopped him, it was a bolt not a lock. Panic began to set in. What had happened? There should be over a hundred people in there. Jon’s face started to deteriorate and the four of them were on the verge of going for more help when the noise of the bar being lifted could be heard from the other side. The sound was so tantalising slow, why were they being like this? It was safe out here wasn’t it.  
The door finally opened, but the girl stood behind it wasn’t Sansa Stark. It was the little girl with the burned face who had reminded Davos of Shireen. Before, the girl had looked so brave, determined to fight like her brothers did. Now she was terrified.  
Arya pushed passed him and knelt I front of the girl, “where is Sansa?” She asked the child, in a surprisingly soft voice for a warrior of her capacity. “The battles done now, we’ve won. You can all come out.” The little girl said nothing, just wrapped her arms around Arya and began to sob. “Hey, hey. It’s ok, you’re ok you’re safe. My name is Arya, what’s your name?”  
“Maeve.” Her voice was muffled and shaking from crying and having her face pressed so tightly against Aryas shoulder.  
“What’s happening?” Jon called, unable to see his sister.  
“Oh gods!” The queen breathed, turning back to face Jon. “The crypt. Jon The crypts!”  
Davos did not fully understand what she meant, but Jon did. His face fell, he looked as though someone had just stabbed him through the heart and was slowly twisting the knife. Jon and Daenerys ran passed Davos, almost falling over Arya and Maeve, and threw the door to the crypts fully open. The Queen screamed.  
The crypts, the one place in winterfell that should have been safe from the Night King, showed a scene equally as gruesome as anything in the castle above. Every man, woman and child who had been down there save for Maeve, was dead. Some lay on their fronts with their backs slashed and shredded from half a hundred knife woulds. Others were on their backs, throats ripped out and belly’s cut open, their end-trails spilling out onto the floor. There were older bodies interspersed with the ones of the poor souls who had just died down here, bodies with rotting bones and rusted iron swords in their bony hands. The smell hit Davos as he tried to take a step forwards, forcing him to turn away.  
He heard the sounds of the king and queen walking further into the crypts as they looked for their loved ones. Arya stood up beside him, still holding little Maeve. He saw that the child was whispering something into the Stark girls ear, she took a few steps forward into the crypts as she listened, Davos holding his breath and following close behind her.  
Arya began to dictate what Maeve was saying. “They came out of the walls.” It was clear she was trying with all her strength to keep her voice calm, but there was still a slight wobble that showed the warrior might crack at any moment. “They heard cracks in the tombs, then their arms broke through the stone. All the dead Kings of Winter.”  
Jon fell to his knees beside one of the direwolf statues, Arya turned quickly to give the child to ser Davos, then ran over to her brother. Even from the distance he was standing, Davos could see lady Sansa’s fiery hair as she lay dead upon the ground, her sister and half brother kneeling beside her could contain their tears no longer. Their sobs filled the chamber, setting little Maeve off again as she began to weep into Davos’ shoulder. The child was still muttering between heaves of tears, but she was in such a state that he could not make out a single word, and all he could do was rock her gentle and whisper that she would be alright.  
Only when the cries of the Starks began to die down did Davos notice Queen Daenerys sat under an archway, her back against the remains of what appeared to be Tohren Starks tomb. She was cradling the body of her friend Missandei, that sweet Naathi woman who had followed her Queen to the ends of the earth. Davos could not bear to be there any longer, and he knew that these three people needed time to mourn their friends. He looked down and shut his eyes to control his tears, but as he opened them again, he saw someone he recognised lying at his feet. It was the wildling woman Gilly, she was lying on her side with her arms still wrapped tightly around her young son. That was the final straw for him. He turned on his heels and left, with Maeve in his hands he was unable to carry a torch so he was left to climb the stairs in darkness.  
When he reached the surface, the sun had risen higher, and was spreading colour across the landscape. Even through all the death, the Winterfell looked beautiful in the pale purple light of dawn.  
All the survivors had left the courtyard, and the light and faint sounds coming from the great hall suggested that the living were gathering in there. Davos put the little girl down, she was small and light but his old arms were beginning to ache from carrying her up all the stairs. She had stopped crying now, but she would be scarred by this moment for the rest of her life.  
“Now then,” he began, in his most father like voice he could find, “do you know what happened tonight?”  
She nodded, sniffing and wiping her nose. “Then you should know,” he continued, “that you have survived the greatest war this world has ever seen. And you are going to have to be brave now, and I know you have seen some horrible things down there, but you told me your brothers were soldiers, that you wanted to fight too. Well you can fight now, not in the way your brothers did, but you can fight to be happy, and rebuild your home and your life. Do you think you can do that, for me?”  
Maeve gave another long sniff. “I wanted to defend the crypt, but I couldn’t. The lady Sansa has a knife, she tried to use it but she didn’t know how to. Now she’s dead, my brothers died too, and my parents. I don’t have a home anymore.”  
Davos gave her a sad smile. “I’m afraid I can’t bring back your family, but I can make sure you have a home.” He stood, taking her little hand in his. “Come on now, it’s been a long night, I think it’s time we broke our fast.”


	2. The woman is important too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The feast after the final bodies have been burnt cannot be described a cheerful for many of the survivors.

Sansa was dead. Jon has found her lying on the floor beside their fathers tomb, Arya has seen a thousand horrors in her time but this was the one she could not shake. As the sound of the feast raged around her, Arya could not take her mind away from Sansa, the way her face had been slashed from her right cheek all the way down to her collarbone, and how she had had a dozen stab wounds to her stomach. There had been a dead wight with a dragonglass dagger stuck in its eye socket just to the left of Sansa, it gave Arya some comfort to know her sister hadn’t gone down without a fight. To Sansa’s right had been Tyrion Lannister, his stunted arm stretched out so his hand could reach Sansa’s, her long fingers wrapped around his short ones.   
The castle was supposed to be celebrating, they had burned the last of the bodies that afternoon. Sansa’s had been one of them, along with all the lords and honoured friends of theirs. Arya had seen and helped to burn the bodies of Lyanna and Jorah Mormont, the former of which Arya herself had helped to train in the build up to the battle.  
Samwell Tarly, Jon’s best friend from his time in the nights watch, along with Sam’s wife Gilly and their young son whose name had also been Sam, there had been another of Jon’s friends from the nights watch, but she could not recall his name.   
The woman Missandei, whose death had brought both Daenerys and her unsullied commander to tears, lord Varys the spider, Beric Dondarrion.   
In the Godswood Arya has found Alys Karstark and Theon Greyjoy, the man who had been so many things to her and to house Stark through the years, Arya herself had shut his eyes when she found his body in the Godswood, though she had arrived there too late to see it happen.   
Then finally, Tyrion and Jamie Lannister. Ser Brienne has brought Jamie’s body out of the wreckage, or, what was left of it rather. He shouldn’t have come here, Arya thought, he didn’t stand a chance, I can understand the reasons but what did he truly believe he could contribute? She had asked him as much when he had first arrived. Arya has been sparring with Lyanna when ser Jamie has come to their not-so-private spot just beside the Godswood. “Will the two of you be fighting the dead?” He had asked, Lyanna, as always had given her response. “Is there any reason why we shouldn’t?” Arya had smiled at that, she had enjoyed the little bears company, but a conversation between her and the Kingslayer had been long overdue.   
“Lyanna can fight just as well as any boy her age.” Arya had told him once the other girl had left.   
“And what about you?” Jamie had asked her.   
“I can fight twice as well as anyone, boy man woman or girl.” She’d smirked.   
Jamie smiles at that too, a more sad sort of smile. “You have your mother’s spirit.”  
That had given her pause. “I’ve always been told I favour my father.”  
“That may be, but Ned Stark fought with honour, he took no joy not pride in it. That’s why he disliked tourneys.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about having a Lannister explain her own father too her, but she hadn’t interrupted him. “Your mother on the other hand, she hit me with a rock once.”  
That truly did make her smile. “I never knew about that.”   
“Ah well, only two other people alive know about a it, Brienne and your Uncle.”  
She furrowed her brow. “My uncle?” She’d thought Benjen long dead beyond the wall somewhere.   
“Edmure Tully.”  
“Oh.”   
“Yes.”  
“What happened to him?”  
“The Frey’s took him prisoner, until the Frey’s were all murdered. The assassin, whoever they were, forgot to let him out of the dungeons so the man was left there to starve for almost a week while all the servants and Frey Lady’s ransacked the castle of the little wealth it had.”  
Oh. Arya had closed her eyes and sighed when she heard that. She had never met her uncle Edmure but he was still her kin.   
“I hadn’t realised Edmure was there.” she mumbled, feeling genuinely guilty and embarrassed by her mistake. “I would have let him out if I had known.”  
Jamie gave her a puzzled look, then his eyes widened as he understood what she was saying. “It was you?”  
“Yes.”  
“Why? Wh.. what did.. why all.. all of them, why kill all of them?”  
“Why wouldn’t I?” She threw back at him, feeling all the rage she had been saving for the battle bubble to the surface. “You know what they did to Robb, they betrayed him. They invited him to a wedding and they murdered him right along with my mother and good-sister. Walder Frey committed sacrilege that day.” She took a breath to calm herself. “Tell me ser Jamie, how have you treated those who have betrayed your house and murdered your family?”He did not answer. “What would your father have done?”  
“He would have done the same thing you did.” The Lannister replied now he had found his voice. “But he wouldn’t have used poison. He would have used an army, and he would make sure the world knew exactly what happens to those who try the Lannisters.”  
“I’m not hiding from what I did. It had to be done and to be completely honest, I enjoyed it. You are wrong about your father though, he may have gone to war against my brother but every battle they fought Robb won, and Lord Tywin lost, so in the end, he made a deal with Walder Frey to rid himself of the young wolf without risk of losing any more of his army. It was all about his bloody legacy.”  
Jamie has given her such a queer look at that statement. “What do you know about my fathers legacy?” He had asked her.   
“It’s what you leave behind for your children and grandchildren, what everyone remembers of you when your gone. He told me that.” She smiled, the look on Jamie’s face was exactly the look she had been trying to get out of him. “Yes, I knew your father too.”  
“How?”  
“I was his cupbearer, during the war. Lord Tywin found me and Gendry as prisoners at Harrenhal, being kept in a pen outside. He sent Gendry to work in the forge and took me on as his cupbearer.”  
“Why you?”  
“Because he thought I was clever. I’d cut my hair off and dressed myself as a boy, only Lord Tywin noticed I was a girl. He had no idea who I was of course, but he knew I was a girl and Northern, and soon enough he guessed I was highborn, he never pried any further than that though. I like to think he liked me too much, and was worried if he knew he might have had to kill me.”  
The kingslayer laughed at that. “I might have to disappoint you there. My father wasn’t the sentimental type, all my life I don’t ever think I saw him smile.”  
“He smiled when he was with me.”  
“You mock.”  
“I do not. I believe I even made him laugh once.”  
“How on earth did you manage that?” Jamie’s voice was dripping with disbelief.   
“I told him most girls were idiots, and he told me I reminded him of Cersei.”   
Arya remembered that conversation with Lord Tywin now. She has still been a child, it was back in the days when she truly had believed that Robb might win the war. 

Lord Tywin had given Arya his food, and told Arya what a legacy was. She remembered he had told her of Aegon the Conquerors legacy, so she had told him it wasn’t just Aegon, it was Rhaenys and Visenya too. Visenya has always been Aryas favourite growing up. Whenever they had radon’s on the Targaryens she would beg maester Luwin to tell her more about the warrior queen who had wielded a sword better than most men, and ridden a dragon in place of a horse. 

And now here Arya sat, in the middle of a victory feast, one of only a few hundred survivors of the greatest battle this world had ever known, with Visenya’s last living descendant sat not two seats away from her. Sansa hadn’t trusted her, but Jon did. Now Sansa was dead, and Jon wasn’t. Arya looked over at Daenerys, the Queen has been much quoted since the battle, understandably. She had lost two of her closest friends, her Hand and her Master of whispers. Sitting at the high table now her beauty and regality were undeniable, but the fire behind her violet eyes that had raged like an inferno before the battle now burnt low, and cold. 

Arya picked up her cup and took a large gulp of ale, which she had recently developed a taste for. She turned to say something to Sansa, then remembered that she was dead, and her younger brother now sat where her older sister once had. Slightly below the high table Ser Brienne and her squire Podrick were eating, they were smiling and even laughing at some points as the wildling next to them told them tales. The wildling were the only people at the feast who seemed wholly unaffected by the battle, for them life just went on as usual. The big ginger wildling, Tormund, Jon had told her, stood from his seat and lurched drunkenly over to where Brienne sat. Upon seeing this Jon rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath, rising from his seat between Arya and Daenerys and making his way over to deal with his wildling friend. 

With Jon gone from the table and finally allowing himself to enjoy the celebration, Daenerys suddenly looked very alone and small in the great hall. Arya had known what it was to be alone in the world, and she would never want that feeling for anyone else, especially not the one who had just saved everyone’s lives. 

Arya stood and moved herself along and into Jon’s seat, she knew there were rules about who got to sit where at the high table but at that moment, she could not have cared less.   
“Your Grace.” She called softly, bringing the queen out of the trance she had been in.   
“My-” The queen began, then hesitated. “Forgive me, you don’t like being called “my lady” do you?”  
“No, your grace, it never felt right.”  
“That’s understandable.” Daenerys smiles, but it did not quite reach her eyes. “What would you like for me to call you then?”  
“Arya is fine, your grace.”   
“Alright then, Arya.” She looked slightly uncomfortable for a moment, then continued. “If I’m not calling you “my lady”, you don’t have to call me “your grace”.” She smiled properly this time. “But I will understand if my name is a little harder to pronounce than yours.”  
Arya laughed a little at that, it wasn’t especially funny but the queen was being kind and she had finally smiled. “Don’t worry, I spent two years in Braavos, I’ve heard more than my share of difficult names. Besides, Maester Luwin taught us about the lives of every Targaryen ever to be born in Westeros, I’m very familiar with the pronunciations.” Daenerys looked slightly sad again after that statement, and Arya was worried she had offended her. “Sorry, I didn’t meant to-”  
“And you didn’t.” The queen cut her off, took a deep breath, and continued. “I never had a formal education when I was a child. I learned to read and write when I was five and ten, living with Magister Illyrio, and my brother.” Arya had known that Rhaegar had had two siblings, though she had never heard a thing about the brother. “They taught me how to better speak the common tongue too, I was more used to Valyrian, but they never taught me much about my family. I only know what Viserys told me, and he only knew what our parents told him. So you probably know more about my family than I do.”  
Arya didn’t know much about Daenerys life before she came to Westeros, she would ask her at some point, but now was not the time. “I can tell you about them if you like.”  
“Please do.” She smiled again, it was the most beautiful thing Arya had ever seen.   
“Visenya was always my favourite, Aegon the Conqueror older sister and wife. She rode the dragon Vhagar and had a Valyrian steel sword named Dark Sister. Her son was Maegor the cruel, who stole the throne from his half-brother Aenys children. That started the first civil war in the Targaryen family, and in the battle beneath the Gods Eye, the first fight between two dragons since the doom of Valyria took place. Maegor on Balerion killed his nephew prince Aegon on the dragon Quicksilver. And that wasn’t the only kinslaying Maegor did, he killed another of his nephews out of fear that he might rise against him. His name was Viserys. Eventually, Maegor was overthrown by the remaining three of his brothers children, prince Aegon’s sister-wife Rhaena on her dragon Dreamfyre, Jaehaerys on vermithor and Alysanne on Silverwing.”   
Arya told as much of the history of Daenerys’ house as she could remember, and for her part, the Queen listened intently to everything Arya told her. 

By the time Arya got onto the fifth king Aegon, Jon returned. Very drunk. He sat himself down on the other side of Daenerys and leans over to join their conversation.   
“Are you letting Arya talk about Targaryens? I’d be careful with that, she could talk about Visenya for days.” He sang, slurring slightly on “days”.   
Daenerys chuckled. “She almost did, but we’re on Aegon the unlikely now.”   
Jon reached out for another cup, but the Queen got there first and quickly passed it to Arya, who drained it in one go. It wasn’t quite the response she had been looking for, but it worked. Jon scowled at them. “Aegon the unlikely, he was the good one wasn’t he, the fifth Aegon?”  
“Aye.” Arya agreed.   
“I thought so. I knew his brother, he used to call him egg.”  
Arya and Daenerys looked at each other in confusion, how drunk is he? “Jon, Aegon was my great grandfather, all of his brothers we’re older than him, and all of them are long dead now.” Daenerys spoke slowly, as if explaining it to a child.   
“Well yes they’re all dead now, but he wasn’t when I knew him.” Jon retorted.   
“And when exactly was it that you knew him?” Arya chimed in, raising her eyebrows.   
“Well when I was in the nights obviously.”  
“You’re seriously trying to tell us that you met some old Targaryen in the nights watch?”  
Daenerys was starting to lose her patience, Arya could tell.   
“Yes, he was the maester there, maester Aemon. He passed away while I was at Hardhome. Old age, Sam said, and fair enough he was 102.”   
Daenerys eyes widened as she finally realised that he was telling the truth. “You knew Aemon Targaryen?”  
“Well, no, he was maester Aemon. He told me once that he had given up his family name years ago, but that the gods had often sought to test his vows.”  
“Roberts rebellion.” Arya murmured, she wondered what she would have done in that mans place. Would she have stayed true to her vows? Stayed at the wall, frozen and alone? Would she have gone to rescue and avenge her family, as she had done so many times already? Her thoughts were interrupted when Bran beside her decided to join their Conversation.   
“Aemon wasn’t the only Targaryen to have lived at the wall in past few decades.” He told them, as if he had been part of the conversation all along. “The other was Brynden Rivers, bloodraven as he was known to most.”  
“And you know this how?” Arya asked, she had spoken to bran very little about his life after fleeing Winterfell. She knew he had gone beyond the wall and become the three eyed raven or whatever that was, but she had no idea where he had gone, or how he had got there, or how he had gained his new powers, what had happened to Summer, and about a hundred other things she had almost been afraid to ask him.   
“He was the three eyed raven, he taught me everything I know.” Brans voice was as neutral as always, and his face showed almost no emotion.   
“So I did have family in Westeros, I just didn’t know.” Daenerys had returned to her previous mood with these new pieces of information. She turned to Jon who, even with a clear mind, could not wrap his head around Brans newfound abilities and was now squinting with the effort of trying to understand what his brother had just told him. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about Aemon before? You’ve had more than enough time to tell me about it on the boat.”  
Jon forgot about Brans contribution instantly and looked almost offended at Daenerys’ question. “I-I forgot, I wasn’t really thinking about him when I met you. Well, I knew obviously I knew he was your great grand something or other but I didn’t really put it together.” Then he added in an attempt at a slightly lower voice, though in his current state it truly made no difference whatsoever. “Besides we were a bit busy on the boat if you remember.”  
Arya decided she had heard enough and turned away to face the rest of the hall. While her and Daenerys had been talking, most of the people in the hall had left to sleep off the food or find someone to sleep with. Unconsciously, her eyes began to rove across the room, looking for him. Arya found him, as she knew she would, in the far corner. His hand gripped tightly around his cup, he was laughing with the wildling Tormund, who had clearly taken the hint and left Brienne alone at last. Arya stood and began to walk over. Once she was halfway there, she saw a pretty serving girl carrying a wine jug approach the men and start a conversation with Gendry. Aryas heart began to beat faster and she felt a flush creeping up her neck. She had no need to worry though, Gendry was entirely uninterested and the squire Podrick intervened and took the girl over to where another serving girl was standing, then, to Aryas surprise, all three of them walked off together.   
Her shock must have shown on her face, because before she even knew he was there, Gendry asked her “Whats for you pulling that face.”  
“What face?” She tried not to smile.   
“That face.” Gendry said, bringing his hand up and holding her cheeks.   
“Stop that, stupid, people are looking.” They were stood in the middle of the hall. She swatted his hand away and then went to punch his shoulder but he caught her wrist.   
“Let’s go someplace no one can see us then.” He grinning. She couldn’t resist the urge to smile any longer, her face cracked as she let him lead her out by the arm.   
Gendry tried to take her to their normal hiding place, but with all the soldiers still outside celebrating even the forge overrun with wildlings and northerners. So Arya led him back into the castle instead. Into her chambers. She had never brought him there before, they had always been too worried that they would be disturbed, that Jon or some poor page might unknowingly walk in on them. However, as all the servants and staff were given next few days off for celebration and recovery, and Jon was probably still “busy” with Daenerys, Arya and Gendry were entirely safe to use her chambers that evening.   
As soon as Gendry closed the door behind him, Arya was on him. She jumped up and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him down towards her, but he pulled away.   
“What’s wrong?” She asked, furrowing her brow. “I thought you wanted to.”  
“I did. It’s just…” he let the sentence trail off and instead gestures to the room they were in. It was the room she had had growing up, Sansa had offered her something bigger, but these rooms were hers. She understood now though why Gendry felt uncomfortable here. He had told her once about what the Red Woman had done, and she had known all along how he felt about highborns.   
“If my room’s the problem then we can go somewhere else.” She suggested.   
“No, that’s not it, not all of it anyway.” He sighed and sat down on the end of her bed, she followed him. “It’s just a room but it’s yours. Yours. And I know you don’t need it, I saw you sleep on the ground a thousand times with Yoren and the Brotherhood. But you’ve got a good life here, your brother’s the Warden of the North, probably soon to King by the looks of him and Queen Daenerys recently. The people here love you and know you, once Jon’s gone I have no doubt that they would want you over Bran.”  
“What are you getting at here?”   
“I’m trying to say, that you might not want to be a lady, but you’re probably going to be the Wardeness soon enough. So when you’re ruling over Winterfell, and keeping the North safe and happy, what place would I have? How could I help you rule? Arya I can’t even read! Now I know Jon would never force you to marry but that’s just how highborns work, everyone knows that barely anyone in your place ever marries for love, they marry for politics and alliances and some other fancy reasons I’m sure. My point is, I’ve got nothing to give you, I’m a bastard Smith from Flea Bottom. I’m not good enough for you.”  
She couldn’t bare to hear him talk like that. He was her oldest friend, her first love and lover, and she would give anything to make their circumstances workable in some way. For now though, all she could do was take his hand and try to reassure him.  
“You’re right, Jon would never force me to marry anyone, and if I were the Wardeness off the North, I think the Northern Lords would have to understand that who ever I marry is entirely my decision and they should all just piss off and let me wed who ever I damn well please.” Arya was beginning to get a bit bored now. They had gone there for a reason after all. She pulled herself around so that she was sitting on his lap, facing him. “But I am not the Wardeness of the North right now, and who said anything about me wanting to marry?”  
She grinned, and he smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was so annoyed that we only saw Arya properly interact with Jon and Gendry this season because I thing there was so much potential for a Daenerys\Arya friendship or having Arya help train some of the younger girls in how to sword-fight. I also really wanted some recognition for what happened at the Twins because it’s literally never mentioned again after Jamie and Cersei have that one conversation.   
I have no idea if the whole blood raven three eyed raven thing is canon in the show but it is on here so.   
Next chapter I’m going to try and include some warging stuff because I love me all of the wargs in ASOIAF and I wish they were in the show *cough* Arya *cough* Jon.


	3. The wars to come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the funeral, the allied lords must discuss the future of the Targaryen restoration and the conflicts to come.

“Half are gone.” Greyworm reached out an arm and removed half of the unsullied pieces from the map in front of them.  
“The Dothraki, have we done a full counting yet?” She knew she had lost many of her Khalasar in the first charge. It had been a cooling move, one they never should have made.  
“Most are dead, but I hear bloodrider say quarter are left.” A quarter wasn’t good enough, she had brought practically all of the Dothraki with her to Westeros, leaving behind only the old, the woman and the children. She would have happily brought the women too but the men did not want them on the ships and none of the women really wanted to cross the poison water. But even without the women she had had almost 100,000 men in her hoard before the the battle for the dawn, now she had just under 25,000. And 4,000 unsullied.  
Daenerys sighed and looked to Jon. “The Northern army isn’t doing much better I’m afraid.” He reaches over the map and began picking pieces off, listing their names. “The Karstark forces were the largest, 2,000, but they’re down to 700 now and with Lady Alys gone they’ve no one to lead them. The Mormont forces are gone entirely, as are the Umbers.” He continued his morbid list until the count was done, and the number of Norther soldiers lay at 5,800 plus the Wildling. “The free folk won’t fight Cersei, your Grace. They came here to fight the dead, nothing more than that.” The queen nodded. “I understand. How many is that in total?” “34,800.” Arya answered her. It made Daenerys smile that the girl had been the first to work it out, especially since she herself would have been unable to do a sum that large. “And the Dragons, of course, how fares Rhaegal?”   
“He’s recovering, he won’t be able to fly for long distances for a while but he will recover soon.” With Jon flying him, Daenerys dragon has suffered several tears to his wings in his fight against Viserion. “How large is Cersei’s army?”   
“We hear almost 50,000 now, your Grace.” Lord Royce told her, he had lost men too, but the Knights of the vale still made up around a third of the Northern army, and all of them were horsed.  
“How is that, I thought I had taken most of it?” br /> “She’s hired sellswords from the Free Cities, the Golden Company. 20,000 men, horses and elephants if we believe these reports.” Daenerys felt her neck begin to flush and the hairs on the back of her neck bristling with anger and frustration, that had to be where Euron Greyjoy had gone after the parley.   
“Where have we got these reports from?” She changed the subject slightly to calm herself.  
“From me.” Bran Stark was staring at her from across the table. Something about his eyes always unsettled Daenerys, but she knew he had abilities, and he was Jon’s family so she trusted him to be honest.   
“What have you seen?”   
“Much and more, but nothing that is of relevance to us yet.”   
“Very well.” Recently Daenerys had found herself missing Tyrion more and more. Her former Hand had made some serious mistakes with the Westeros invasion, but he knew warfare better than she did, and in the end she truly did value his council. In his absence however, Daenerys turned to Lord Royce as the most experienced and accomplished military commander there. “Lord Royce, you fought in Roberts Rebellion did you not?” The man looked flustered and more than a little afraid. “Have no fear my lord, I am not trying to trick you.”   
“Yes, your grace.” He was hesitant at first, then stood up straight and proud and told her. “All the Vale fought loyally behind Jon Arryn.”   
“And it was Jon Arryn’s side that won the war, just as it was Sansa Starks side when you came to her aid in the Battle of the Bastards. I am sensing a trend here.”   
“You flatter me, your grace.” Royce looked more embarrassed than flattered.   
“I simply speak the truth, my Lord. You are an accomplished military commander.” If not particularly distinguished. “I am asking your advice now, how do you believe we should proceed?”   
Lord Royce tried his best to hide his true feelings behind a scowl, but Daenerys hoped that he was pleased, she needed the support of the Vale in this. “Well, to be entirely honest your Grace, we need more men. I have no doubt that with your dragons and the men we have that we could take Kingslanding, but we won’t be able to keep it if the other, however many kingdoms, decide to march on us and take all it back. We need more Southern allies.”   
“I’m glad you think that, I agree.” She reached into a small pocket in the neckline of her dress and produced a raven scroll, placing it down on the table for all to see. “The new Princess of Dorne, Arianne Martell, has pledged her allegiance to house Targaryen, and the last we heard from the Iron Islands Queen Yara had taken them back and was set to building their new fleet. I have no doubt she will aid and support us.” Daenerys had been more than happy to hear about the Greyjoy Queens success in taking back her home. Lord Royce however looked a little skeptical at the news. “What’s wrong, you said we needed allies?”   
“Forgive me, your grace, but Dorne and the Iron Islands are hardly the most respected kingdoms in Westeros. Their alliances will not be enough I fear.” The queen looked down at the map in front of them and scowled. She had spent much and more of her time on her voyage to Westeros studying maps of the land she wished to rule over, she probably knew more about the geography of the seven kingdoms than Arya did about Visenya Targaryen. Daenerys was about to ask Royce who he thought were more suitable allies, when her new friend offered her own opinion.   
“If I may, my lords, my Uncle Edmure is being held at Riverrun by a skeleton force of Frey’s. The garrison has no back up and no liege, I made sure of that.” Arya gave a smirk and it took the room a moment to comprehend what the girl had said. They had all heard about what had happened to the Frey’s and they all had their theories on what happened, but not one of them had suspected that it had been Arya’s doing. “It is my belief that if we go to the castle and offer the men there their lives in return for surrendering and giving us Edmure and what remains of his family, they will take that deal. Once we have restored Edmure to his title of Lord of Riverrun and Lord paramount of the Trident and what ever else he was, he will feel indebted to you and pledge his allegiance.” It was a good plan and everyone knew it, but Daenerys had to know more before agreeing this time, she had to choose her allies more carefully than she had done in Meereen and Qarth.   
“What If Edmure decides he does not want to bend the knee to me?”   
Arya gave another smirk. “If that’s case I may have to pay him a visit and remind him of his house words.” Family Duty Honour. The Queen has made sure to educate herself in all the greater houses and their words as well on the voyage.   
“You said what was left of his family, what is left of the Tully’s?” Arya smile faded.   
“Just Edmure’s wife and son.” Her tone was icy now, and she looked as if she was fighting against her mind, trying to keep some horrible memory locked away. Then Daenerys remembered that it had been at Edmure Tully’s wedding that Robb and Catelyn Stark has been murdered. She moved the conversation forwards to try and bring Arya’s mind away from it.   
“It’s a good plan, we’ll do it. Are there any other houses or Kingdoms that we might expect fealty from?”   
“Certainly not the Westerlands.” Jon mumbled. “But some parts of the Crownlands might. I’d expect the Velaryons and the Celtigars to follow you given the Valyrian connection and how close your two families have been in the past.” Our two families Jon, I have not forgotten.   
“Yes, the Valyrian families will be on our side, but with the Tyrell’s and the Baratheon’s gone the lords of Stormlands and the Reach won’t be much help to us without their liege. We could offer them new overlords but they would have to be from families that are both loyal to us and from that same kingdom.” She hesitated, thinking back to what she knew about Rhaegar. The small folk and nobles alike had loved him, there had to be some people left in Westeros who retained some of that love even now. “Ser Gerald Hightower was in my fathers Kingsguard, he was a very good friend to my brother I believe. House Hightower is one of the oldest families in the reach, if we offer them Highgarden in return for their allegiance the other houses would likely follow.”   
The nods and mutters of approval from around the table told her she was right. With the Riverlands and the Reach dealt with, that would only leave the Stormlands, would the Stormlords ever trust a woman whose father and brother they had so actively tried to overthrow two decades previously? Once more, it was Arya who offered a solution. “I’ve never been to the Stormlands, but I know that the lords there are still loyal to the Baratheon’s, not there’s any of them left. I did meet King Robert though, I can’t remember much about him but I do remember that, and among other things, he had an awful lot of bastards.” She gave Jon an apologetic look and turned to face the Valemen. “My lords, there is a girl living in the Eyrie by the name of Mya Stone is there not?” The Valemen all nodded. “During her time with time there my sister Sansa became quite close to Mya, and soon learned that Mya is one of the aforementioned Baratheon bastards. If you legitimise her and grant her Storms End she will be grateful to you for your generosity and mercy for not holding her accountable for her fathers crimes against your family. The Stormlords should also be happy to accept one from a family they are familiar with.” The Queen looked to Lord Royce and the other nobles, they all seemed impressed with Aryas plan too.   
“It’s settled then.” She looked to maester Wolkan who bowed his head and hurried off in the direction of the ravenry. “We will discuss when to move and further military action next time.”   
“Your grace.” The lords and ladies all bowed and took their leave of her.   
“Jon.” She spotted the former King in the North trying leave with everyone else and called him back in. “ how are you feeling?” After the feast the night before it was a miracle he was even there.  
“Honesty, not great.” Daenerys had had to force him to drink some water, but even after what seemed like a barrel of it Jon had still vomited on her floor when he tried to eat something.   
“I believe you.” They smiled at each other slightly awkwardly, neither really wanted to have this conversation. “What you told me, in the Crypts.” She began. “About your mother, and my Br-”   
“Please, I know what you think but I would never, do that to you. I know what’ll happen if anyone finds out and that’s not what I want, it’s never been what I want, you deserve the throne and no one else. I only told you because I thought you had a right to know.” Hearing him say it made her feel even more right for what she was about to do. Seeing him now, standing before her with nothing but concern for her on his face, it was everything she needed just then. She reached out and took his face in her hands, his cheeks were cold as always, but she didn’t mind. He was ice and she was fire, she put her lips to his and felt his arms wrap around her.  
“I know.” She pulled away slightly and rested her forehead against his. “I wasn’t worried, in the crypts, when you told me, I was just in shock.” She took a deep breath in. “ I know that you were raised by the Stark and that you never wanted to be king or a Targaryen, but I want you to. I love you Jon and I want you to marry me.” Daenerys heard his breathing stop, whether that was a good or bad sign she could not tell, but she had to keep going now. “No one will object, I know they won’t, it’s a good match. The North will likely be happier if they know they have rejoined the seven Kingdoms through marriage. If you want to tell everyone who you really are, then do, it is entirely your decision and I will support you either way. If you want to share the throne and let the both of us take an equal part in ruling, I will gladly accept that, but also if you wish only to be my consort and play no part in this nation’s governance I will accept that too. Whatever you want, however you want it, as long as you are with me I’ll be happy, but I could never wed any other man knowing that you were still alive up here.”   
The silence that followed lasted for an eternity. Daenerys could hear straight through the sound of their breathing so that the only thing she could hear was the sound of their hearts, their beats were fast and perfectly in time.   
“Dany,” finally, Jon’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I love you too, but I’m the Warden now, the people here need me. If I marry you I will have to go south, then who would take care of the North?”   
“Arya would.” The solution was obvious, she was surprised he hadn’t realised it yet. “Your sister is a born leader. The lords respect her, she’s their hero now she killed the Night King, and we both now the common people love her more that me and you combined. What was it the castle staff used to call her?” She knew the answer, she just wanted him to say something.   
“Arya underfoot.” He chuckled. “Because that’s where she always was.”   
“You see? You yourself told me that she was better running a household than any of your other siblings, and she’s just proved her skill at sums and politics.”   
Jon sighed. “Your right but, Arya doesn’t want to be a Lady, it’s not who she is.”   
“I know that.” She told him. “But she wouldn’t be a lady, would she. She’d be a Wardeness, like her father. I’m sure we could win her round.” Daenerys knee she was winning him round now.  
“Alright, but we should speak to Arya first. I want her to know everything before we decide her life for her.”   
“That’s fair.”

They found Arya in the training yard, teaching one of the smiths how to use a bow. The queen remembered the lad, he had been the one that Arya had gone off with after the feast the night before. Jon had been too drunk to do anything and he couldn’t remember it now, but he had been very confused at the sight of his little sister going off with a man alone.   
“Wh- What? Where is, why, why is Arya going off with Gendry,” Gendry, that’s what his name is, the queen remembered the as she looked back at their conversation. 

“Arya.” She called, as per their previous conversation, she refused to call her “my lady”   
“Daenerys.” The younger girl turned and smiled at the sight of them. “This is Gendry, he’s one of the new smiths, he’s very good, see?” Arya pulled a small dagger from her sword belt and handed to her hilt first. It was a beautiful weapon, sharp and smooth but it twisted just beneath the handle which was almost as long as the blade itself, short as the blade was.   
“Very good, I must have you make something for me.” She smiled at Gendry as she handed the dagger back to Arya.   
“Yes, your grace.” The lad looked even more uncomfortable addressing nobility than Arya did being addressed as nobility.   
“We need a word with you Arya.” Jon said, squinting suspiciously at Gendry. “If you’re not too busy.”   
“That’s fine, but I’ll need some time to clear up here first.” Arya noticed Jon’s look and moved in front of Gendry slightly to draw away her brother’s attention.   
“Very good, make sure you put everything away, or Ser Rodrik’s ghost will come back and clout you in the ear.” Arya grinned at that. “We’ll be waiting for you in the Godswood.”

Daenerys had never visited the Godswood before. There had never been time, she told herself, but that wasn’t the only reason. The Godswood was where the Old Gods live, the Stark Gods. House Targaryen had once followed the Gods of Old Valyria, but they converted to the faith of the seven after the conquest, though Daenerys herself had never been particularly religious. It’s beautiful here, she wanted to say, but for some reason she felt as if this was not a place where she should speak.   
“Are you alright?” Jon put his hand on her arm, a worried look on his face. “You seem quiet.”   
She smiled at his concern, he was speaking quietly too. “I’m fine. I’ve just never been here before.”   
“Aye, Lady Stark often said this wasn’t a place for southerners, she felt like an outsider here too.”   
“No,” Daenerys realised why it was this place felt so strange to her, “It’s not that, it’s the opposite actually. For the first time, I feel at home.”   
“I’m sorry, for how the north has treated you, you deserve better. I’m glad the Old Gods like you at least.”   
It felt good to hear him say that, she did deserve better, though that wasn’t entirely what she had meant. Jon was half right, she did not feel at home in the North, it was a strange land with a strange people who did not take kindly to foreigners, but when she said the Godswood was where she felt safe, she meant the first place ever. She would have told him that then, but Arya arrived.   
“Sorry that took so long.” The soon to be Wardeness of the North beamed at them, clearly taking note of how they were stood. In response Jon moved his hand down to hold Daenerys’.   
“It’s no matter.” The Queen told her. “We brought you hear so that we could ask you something.”   
“Then I’ll try my best to answer.”   
“How would you feel.” Daenerys began, looking up at Jon who seemed to understand what she meant now, and took over the conversation. “If Daenerys and I were to wed?”   
Arya looked less surprised than Jon would have been expecting, but she was clearly happy for them. “I’d be happy for you both, of course I would.” Her smile froze on her face as she realises all that would entail.   
“You know why we’re asking you. If I marry I’ll have to move south, and someone else will have to rule the North in my stead.” Jon’s voice was kind but cautious.   
“Bran.” Arya answered immediately, if the queen hadn’t know of Arya’s distain for being a lady, she would have been shocked at how easily the girl let the older female choice be overlooked in favour of the younger male. “It has to be Bran, he’s Fathers last living true born son, by rights of inheritance Winterfell and the North belong to him.”   
“By rights yes, but Bran is… whatever Bran is now.” Jon looked down to Daenerys and took a deep breath before continuing. “And Bran isn’t just Fathers last living true born son, he’s fathers last living son.” As Jon told his half sister what he had so recently told the queen, Aryas reaction was no different to what hers had been, well, except the part about the claim to the throne. “So really I have even less of a right to Winterfell than you or Bran.”   
The girl just stared at them. For a moment Daenerys was worried what she might do, Arya had been known to be rather unpredictable in the past. “So, you’re really my cousin, and Daenerys is actually your aunt, but you’re going to marry her anyway which is fair enough given your new family history.”   
“Plenty of Starks have marred their cousins or uncles in the past.” Jon muttered under his breath, but the women both heard.   
“And you want me to be the Wardeness of the North, the lady of Winterfell?” She shook her head sadly and whispered. “Sansa was the lady of Winterfell, not me, never me.”   
Daenerys disliked that they would be pushing Arya to do something she was uncomfortable with, but she had to see that she was the best choice for the job. “You told me last night about Visenya Targaryen. She was a Queen, a wife, a mother, and one of the greatest warriors this world has ever seen, like you are. If Visenya could be all of those things, then why can’t you? Being a Lady doesn’t mean you have to sit around waiting for your Lord to finish his work, I certainly never have. Do you think Visenya ever sat around fretting about embroidery? No, she ruled. She lead men and Lords through war and strife, she brought peace.” She stopped for breath and to see Aryas reaction, she was getting there, she knew she was. “The people here love you, the Lords respect you and not just because of your father. They know you are just and will lead them well, that you will fight for them against any foe. You are the best option here, you have the best claim and the most expensive in ruling. Please Arya, this is your home, don’t you want to do what your father did?”   
She knew she had won now. Arya stayed silent for a moment, her staring straight at her feet. She turned her head to the Weirwood beside them, it’s red eyes seemed to be looking straight into her grey, almost as if the Old Gods were speaking to her. Arya sighed turned to face them, she nodded.  
“I’ll do it.” Daenerys almost cried. “But I’ll need something in return.”   
“Anything.” At that moment the Queen was so happy she probably would have consented if Arya had asked for one of her dragons.   
“A favour.” The new Lady of Winterfell asked instead. “Not now, but at some point, you will have to grant me one favour.”   
If anyone else had asked this at any other time, Daenerys would have been reluctant to grant it, but she trusted Arya, so she agreed.   
As Arya congratulated Jon and asked him for tips, Daenerys took a moment to calm herself, closing her eyes and listening to the sound of the leaves. It was strange, she could hear the leaves on the Heart tree rustling so clearly, but there was not a breath of wind to move them.   
She must have been wondering this for longer than she had thought as Jon’s voice broke through her thoughts.   
“Dany? Is everything alright?”   
“Yes.” She smiled. “Everything’s perfect.”   
He smiled back. “We’re going back, Arya’s hungry. Are you coming?”   
“No, not yet.” She looked back at the heart tree. “I’m going to stay a bit longer.”   
The others nodded and trudged through the snow back to the castle.   
There was something about the face that intrigued Daenerys, something in its eyes. Slowly, she stepped towards the tree, the snow breaking softly under her feat. She reached out an arm, and placed her hand on the corner of the eye. The red tears that seemed to have been escaping from it were made of the trees own sap, which now felt sticky in the queens hand.   
Having had her curiosity sated, Daenerys turned back around to admire the tree again from a distance, but as she turned she saw something behind her. It was big and white, very big, almost the same height as her. Like the tree behind her he had bright red eyes, unlike the tree however, he made no noise at all, she had not even heard his footfalls on the snow. Ghost.   
The direwolf extended his neck to sniff at her, Daenerys remembered when she had flown Drogon back to Dragonstone, how Jon had touched his nose. I should have realised then, or at least when he flew Rhaegal. She took note of his actions now and copied them. She reached out to him, just as she had with the tree but waiting this time for him to come to her. He did. The wolf was incredibly soft for a creature that could so easily rip her to pieces.   
In that moment, with Ghost’s head pushing against her hand, she somehow knew that she had made the right choices. That everything she had ever done had led her to this moment, and that was good. She also knew then, that everything would work from this moment onwards, and she would finally have her due.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it’s taken so long, I’ve been a bit busy and will be so the next chapter will likely be another week. So here we have Arya accepting her duty and being happy for her brother and his choices. I didn’t like that the only skills Arya is ever shown to have on the show are fighting skills because she’s canonically very good at sums and running a household, I also really wanted the chance to use “Arya underfoot” because it’s such a cute nick name. Only two chapters left, sorry. There will be a happy ending and there’ll probably be some time jump to the last chapter, hope you enjoy :)


	4. I Am Arya Stark Of Winterfell

Harrenhal was beautiful. A ruin yes, but a beautiful ruin all the same. The Dragons agreed with her she knew they did. 

Everyone in the allied forces had been feeling extremely optimistic of late. The Vale and the Riverlands has declared their support, the Dornish army awaited their instructions, even the Stormlands had gladly accepted Mya as their new liege. The Iron fleet were on their way to Dragonstone and the Hightower’s had consented to her terms and were gathering their army at that very moment. 

“Your Grace.” A mans voice called out from behind her, pulling her out of her thoughts. It was a quiet voice, croaked and cracked. 

“Lord Edmure.” Daenerys knee who it was before she had even turned to see him. 

“Forgive me, I never found a time to thank you, for restoring my position that is.” Edmure bowed his head, swallowing and shaking slightly. He was still terrified, she wondered what the Frey’s has done to him. 

“It was the right thing to do. But truly it was your nieces idea, so it is to her you owe thanks.” Daenerys offered him a smile. 

“My niece?” Edmure looked up, confused. “I thought Lady Sansa had died in the Long Night.”

“She did, it was Arya who advised me on this.” Daenerys told him. 

“Oh, well I shall thank her then.” He looked slightly lost for a second. “Is she here?”

Daenerys was not sure how to answer that question. No, Arya wasn’t there, but she couldn’t tell him that in case he asked her where she was, and no one besides Daenerys, Jon and Arya herself could know where the girl had gone. Well, Bran probably knew but Bran was very odd and people rarely spoke to him, so there was little danger there. 

“No.” She told him, remembering the lie that Arya had told them to tell anyone who asked after her. “She’s looking for her wolf, Nymeria. Apparently the animal has a pack in the Riverlands somewhere.”

Daenerys remembered her conversation with Arya

“It’s only a half lie.” She said. “Nymeria does have a pack in the Riverlands, but if I wanted to find her I wouldn’t even need to leave the castle, I always know where she is.”

It was old magic, Stark magic. Jon had it too, she knew he did. Sometimes he would thrash around in bed while he slept, and when Daenerys tried to calm him or open his eyes, they would be completely white. She knew that meant he wasn’t next to her anymore, he was in Ghost. 

“Do you know when she’ll be back?” Edmure asked, slightly concerned at the thought of his niece hunting for wolves in the woods alone. 

“No.” Daenerys answered honestly this time. “I do not.”

Kingslanding hadn’t changed at all. Well, apart from the giant scorpions which now topped every tower along the city walls, but other than that it was still the same. Dirty and crowded and stinking of piss and shit and blood. 

Arya looked up at Gendry walking beside her. It had taken little enough persuading to make him come with her. At first he had been reluctant as he feared the goldcloaks might come for him, but when he learned that Arya would simply go alone if he didn’t come with her, he changed his him very quickly. 

The gates were packed as they walked through. Cersei was trying to bring as many people into Kingslanding as possible, Arya had already guessed why. They were hostages. If Daenerys attacked Kingslanding she would have to kill every innocent man, woman and child who now hid within the city. Luckily for the Kingslanders however, the Dragon Queen would not attack the city. Daenerys Targaryen was not in fact going to attack anywhere, save perhaps the Westerlands. She was currently biding her time at Harrenhal, waiting for Arya and Gendry to do their job. 

It had been Aryas idea to use Harrenhal. It was the only stronghold the Lannister’s had left in the Riverlands now that the Frey’s were gone. Daenerys liked it, she thought it was poetic that they would end the war from the place where that war had began. The Queen has invited all the lords who had not already declared for Cersei, and even some who had, to come and swear fealty to her. And with the dragons ever present over the ruined castle, it was no wonder that they had all bent the knee. 

Suddenly, Arya felt Gendry’s hand wrap itself around hers. She could see the anxiety in his face as he glanced around at the city watch. She gave his hand a squeeze, and pulled them both into an alley way away from the crowds. 

“Hey, look at me.” She put a hand on his cheek to turn his face to hers. “They’re busy preparing a siege, they’re not looking for you.” 

When Arya first saw him again at Winterfell, Gendry’s hair had been almost entirely shaved. Now, after several months of travel and battle plans, it had finally grown back to the shaggy black mess it had been when she first met him. She decided she liked this look better. 

“I know.” He sighed, leaning into her hand. “It’s just a lot being back here.”

“I understand.” Arya stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. “But we have to be quick, I want to get into the castle by nightfall. I don’t fancy spending another night on the streets here.”

After her father was arrested, Arya had fled the Red Keep and spent several days sleeping rough in Flee Bottom. During her escape she had picked up a cloak, a bracelet and a small bundle of clothes to wear or sell, but they had all been stolen on her very first night there. The thieves would have taken needle too if she hadn’t been sleeping on it. 

“I You sure they won’t recognise you?” Gendry asked. He had never asked her what exactly she would do once they arrived in the Red Keep, but he could guess. 

“It’s been years since I left, and no one knew who I was the last time I was here either.” Arya had told Gendry about her time with the faceless men, but he had never seen her use a face. “But I brought a disguise just in case.”

Gendry nodded, understanding what she meant and not needing to hear anymore. He took her hand and led her further down the alley. She bit her lip as they passed two men, deeply in their cups, punching each other on the other side of the street. 

Just as Arya thought they had to be lost, Gendry stopped and looked at her. 

“The gates to the Red Keep are about five minutes that way.” He gesture up the hill they were on. “You should put your disguise on now.”

She nodded and turned away as she reached into her bag. 

When she was done, she turned back to Gendry. He didn’t recognise her, that was good. 

“I’m ready.” She told him. She was wearing the same face she had worn when she cooked Walder Frey’s sons into a pie. 

“You still sound like you.” Gendry stared at her open mouthed. 

“That doesn’t matter, no one will care what I sound like. I’m only wearing the face in case Cersei recognises me before I get a chance to be alone with her.” 

Gendry frowned. “And how exactly do you plan on getting alone with her.”

Arya smirked and pulled something else out of her bag. She saw Gendry’s eyes widen as he understood. 

She kissed him one last time. “I’ll meet you at the beach, where I showed you. If I’m not there by tomorrow night, leave.” Gendry made to protest but Arya cut him off. “Leave, and that is a command.”

Before he could object any further she turned on her heel and set off up the hill. Just as Gendry had promised, five minutes later and she was at the gates to the Keep. 

“Hey.” A guard came running over to her. “What do you think you’re doing girl?”

“I’m here to see Queen Cersei.” She have the sweetest voice she could, it had been worked for her at the Twins after all. 

“No one sees Queen Cersei without her prior consent.” Another guard came up behind her. 

“So why don’t you fuck off.” The first guard said. Arya almost laughed, this was becoming something of a habit. 

“Ay, there’s no need to be rude about it.” The second guard objected. “I get off my shift soon, you’re more than welcome to come and wait with me.” He made small grab for her cheek but she dodged. 

“I told you.” She made her voice more stern now. “I’m here to see Queen Cersei.”

“And I told you to fuck-” she cut him off, pulling the thing she had shown Gendry out of her bag to show that guards. 

It was a hand. A golden hand. 

The guards looked to the hand, eyes wide, then to each other. Wordlessly, the first guard gestured to the man at the gates to open them. Arya was in. 

“Hold on a minute.” The second guard was following her. “You can’t just go wandering around the Red Keep by yourself. You said you’re her to see the Queen, I’ll take you too her, and make sure you don’t get lost.

Truthfully, she slightly glad he was there. She hadn’t been to the Red Keep in years and while she would still have been able to find the tower of the hand and the entrance to the dungeons with the dragon skulls that would be her escape, she truly had no idea how to reach Cersei’s chambers. 

After walking through the Keep for what felt like hours, they finally stopped. Arya realised her heart was pounding. She had never been this nervous before, but then, the stakes had never been this high before either. 

The guard nocked. 

“Come in.” Even after so many years, Arya still remembered that voice. “We have another wolf” the voice in her head was clear as the one that came from behind the door. 

The guard pushed open the door and looked anxiously down at Arya. 

“Who’s this.” Cersei held a wine glass in her hand, though she did not look to have drunk any of it. 

The sight of her almost ruined the entire plan. Arya remembered the way she had stood upon the dais at the Great Sept, how she smiled as Arya’s father was beheaded. It’s all fault it’s all her fault it’s all her fault, her mind kept screaming. 

“She said she’s here to see you, She brought something.” The guard looked even more nervous, but the sound of his voice brought Arya back to her senses. The guard saw her face, he must have assumed she was scared too, because he put a hand on her arm and squeezed it slightly, he spoke kindly to her now. “Show her Grace what you showed us.”

Arya brought the hand out of her bag. Cersei couldn’t see from where she sat so she beckoned her closer. Perfect, Arya thought, this is going perfect. 

“How cane you by this.” Cersei’s voice was strained and high pitched. 

“Ser Jamie instructed me to bring it to you, your Grace.” Arya tried to make her voice calm. 

“Why?”

Now, Arya thought. She glanced nervously back at the guard, Cersei caught the look and sent the guard away, instructing him to close the door. 

“He told me that I should return it to you should anything happen to him.” Arya passed the hand to Cersei. 

As predicted, the woman began to sob uncontrollably at that. Arya could hardly believe how well her plan was going. 

“What.” She choked out finally. “What happened to him?” 

“He died in the battle. He died fighting.” Whatever Cersei was, Ser Jamie had fought bravely at Winterfell, he fought for the living. Arya owed him honesty now. 

The plan was working but Arya still had to be quick, Cersei was a changeable woman, who blames what she would do before Arya had a chance to kill her. She shifted her sword belt slightly, so her dagger was within reach. Then, seeing Cersei was looking down at the hand, she reached at and placed to fingers under the woman’s chin, tilting her head so she would she everything that happened next. 

“What are you-” she sounded confused, her eyes widening in shock and horror as Arya reached up and removed her face. Then the realisation hit her, and Arya knew Cersei recognised her. 

“You know me, don’t you.” Cersei tried to scream, but Arya clamped a hand over her mouth. “Yes Cersei, you were so worried about Daenerys and her dragons. You were so busy looking to the skies and building your scorpions, you never noticed that the pack survived. That I survived. It was me, it was all me, I killed the Frey’s, I killed Meryn Trant and Petyr Baelish, I killed the Lannister soldiers and I killed the Night King.”

She had to stop for a moment to catch her breath. She realised she had been speaking far too loudly, thankfully the door was thick and the guard hadn’t heard. Arya was face to face with Cersei. 

“I am Arya Stark of Winterfell. You executed my father and my sister’s wolf, then you stood back and watched as your son beat and humiliated Sansa in front of the entire court, and if that wasn’t bad enough you married her to your brother. Your family was responsible for the Red Wedding, don’t deny it, Walder Frey would never have done it unless your father offered him a reward. I am Arya Stark of Winterfell, and I am here now to make you answer for your crimes against my family.”

Cersei tried to scream again and but Aryas fingers. She let go but her knife was already in her other hand. She cut her throat the same way she had Littlefinger’s, but this time she reached her hand into the gash in her neck, feeling around until she found it. Then she ripped Cersei’s lying tongue out of her neck, and let her body fall to the floor. 

Her clothes were covered in blood. She put the tongue in her bag, and lifted Cersei’s body onto her bed. Arya tucked the covers around her body, making sure to pull them right up to her neck. She contemplated cutting the bitches head off entirely, but it would take too long. She placed Ser Jamie’s hand on the pillow beside her and riffled through the dead woman’s clothes to find a cloak or dress to replace her bloodstained ones. 

As predicted, Cersei and little and less in the way of basic clothing. But Arya eventually found a wool dress vaguely similar to her own and a blue velvet cloak which she could pass as her own if she turned it inside out. The inside was black wool. 

“Her Grace wishes to be left alone.” The guard looked slightly startled at the sight of her. He had walked someway down the hall to give the two of them some privacy. It was luck the hallway was dark and the guard hadn’t been all that interested in what she was wearing, he didn’t notice anything was off. 

“How is she?” He asked. 

“Sleeping.” 

“Shall I walk you out of the Keep?” He seemed very keen to stay with Arya, that wasn’t good. 

“No, thank you, I can find my own way. You should find one of the Queen’s maids, she will have need of them when she wakes.” The guard seemed disappointed, but could not argue with that. 

Arya walked slowly down the hall until the man was out of sight, then she ran. 

She knew her way to the dragon dungeons well, and she knew her way out of them even better. 

By the time she was out and onto the beach, night had fallen. But even in the darkness, she could see the shape of Gendry Waters waiting anxiously by the boat. 

“There you are.” As soon as he saw her, he ran over and embraced her, lifting her clear off the ground. 

“You found a boat.” She could barely contain her excitement to leave. 

Gendry smirked. “Aye, I did. And it’s lucky for you, I know how to row.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry this has taken so long, I’ve been caught up with the other fic I’m doing. 
> 
> I finally got around to putting the warg content in as promised, it’s not much I know, there’ll be more next time, but I put in the conclusion Jon and Arya are wargs, which they are in canon. 
> 
> Anyway, here is what should have happened instead of Dany burning Kingslanding, hope you enjoy.


	5. Do you know what I could have been if I had only said the word?

Kingslanding welcomed them with open gates and cheers. The whole city must have been there as half the allied forces made their way through the Gate of the Gods and passed cobblers square. The other half were coming through the Kings gate and the River gate. The plan was to meet just below Visenya’s hill and wait until Daenerys and Drogon arrived before making the ascent to Aegon’s high hill. 

Daenerys had offered to let Jon ride Rhaegal to Kingslanding but he declined. “This is your victory, not mine. You are the Dragon Queen, they must see you and only you.” He told her. After all, there would be plenty of time to decide exactly how her rule would work with him along side. 

But for now, Jon arrived in Kingslanding on horseback, with and entire army following him. The Northerners, the Riverlands and the Vale . All of the remaining unsullied were coming through river gate with the Reachmen, and all the Dornish troops and remaining Dothraki arrived through the Kings gate. 

Jon and Greyworm met in the clearing beneath Visenya’s hill. The people in the streets and houses around them were clapping and cheering, some were even waving Dragon banners from their windows. The men behind Jon were living the sudden attention they were receiving, waving back and smiling, Jon even saw one man run over to embrace a young woman holding a small wolf banner in her hand. 

They had been there almost five minutes when they finally heard what they had been waiting for. Drogon’s roar was some way off but still loud enough make everyone gasp and stare expectantly up at the sky. Then a sound like thunder cracking rippled out around them as Daenerys and her two dragons descended from the clouds. 

Greyworm wasted no time in stamping the but of his spear on the ground and leading his men to the Red keep, Jon did the same except his his voice and not a spear. Many of the kingslanders followed behind them. 

The ascent to the Red Keep took almost 20 minutes, and by that time Daenerys had already circled thrice around the city and landed in the courtyard. As they entered to clearing before the gates, they could all see her standing high above them on the steps, Drogon spreading his wings and flying up behind made it look as if she herself had wings. 

She truly was a dragon that day as she gave her speech to her new subjects. 

Once all on the speeches and the thank you’s and the explanations were given Daenerys felt so overwhelmed and exhausted that she decided to wait another day or so before her coronation and the awards ceremony she had planned to be held. She gave Jon a word to take all of the men back out of the city and into their camps. She would see him when this was done. 

She turned away from her people, hearing their cheers and the joy in their voices cleared Dany’s mind of any doubts she had. This was right, she thought, everything I have done had been worth it. She began to wonder through the halls and corridors of the Red Keep, all the staff had deserted the second they heard Cersei was dead, looting much gold and practically any item of value it seemed to Daenerys. Thankfully the Mad Queen has been so widely hated that there were no other lords or lady’s present at the time of her death, so the castle was, for all intents and purposes, completely abandoned. 

Finally she found it. The throne room. It was just as she had seen in her dream although blessedly intact. As Daenerys walked closer to the Iron Throne, she could see that there was something , someone, sat upon. It was Cersei. Daenerys was still some distance away from her rival when someone else moved from behind the Throne. 

“Queen Daenerys.” The little man called. It was Cersei’s Hand she knew. 

“Quyburn.” She replied. “I hear you are the inventor of those ghastly scorpions.” The man gave a pleased chuckle in response. “Have no fear my lord, every singe one of those monstrosities has been destroyed.”

“Yes I suppose they have.” He sighed. 

Daenerys could not figure this man out. She had won. She was queen, why did he not surrender or at least try to attack her. 

“Your Queen is dead Quyburn but you do not have to die too.” She said, trying to provoke any kind of response out of him. 

“That is where you are wrong.” The strange gave her a chilling smile. “Queen Cersei’s body may be dead, but her vision lives on. In me.” 

Suddenly the man produced a candle from behind his back. It was burning low, barely more than a stub. She could not see clearly from this distance but Dawn knew that the wax must have been spilling onto his fingers for their entire conversation. How did he don’t flinch? She wondered, this man must be mad. 

“You see, her Grace Queen Cersei though your were rather presumptuous with all your titles. Mother of Dragons. Yes that’s fair, a little dramatic but who can blame a woman for wanting for being that.” He stepped forwards so he was beside Cersei. “Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Well you are now, admittedly, but you weren’t before.” He stroked the dead Queen’s hair and tilted her head slightly as it had begun to droop. “Breaker of Chains. That one I always found rather counterproductive. You freed slaves and diminished the Meereenese hierarchy to nothing. As Queen the hierarchy should have been your most important tool.”

“I could not rule over a city where people were bought and sold as property.” Daenerys retorted, growing more and more irritated with this man. She took another step forward, then another. Something felt off now, the floor, the floor was slightly… wet?

“Then of course,” Quyburn continued as if she had not even spoken. “There is my favourite title. The Unburnt.” He placed what remained of the candle in Cersei’s hands. “I have always wanted to see how exactly that one works.”

Something was definitely wrong. She took another step forwards and almost slipped on the floor. She looked down to see what was making the floor so slick. It was not water. It was a wonder she had missed it at first, the floor was animated green with a slight glow to it. 

“What is this?” Daenerys demanded. The little man only laughed. 

“Dany?” No, she thought, no no no not here not now. Jon was stood in the entrance. But the candle had almost burnt down. She had seen the ruins of the sept as she flew over, they would not make it out in time. 

“DROGON!” She screamed. It was the only way she could think of to escape. 

“Why are you, what, who’s he?” Jon gestured to Quyburn who was still laughing beside the throne. She called for Drogon again. Jon looked to the floor and finally seem to understand what was happening. “RHAEGAL!” He yelled for his own mount. 

There was a roar from outside and the great green dragon crashed through the right side of the throne room. Jon looked to Daenerys. 

“GO!” She screamed. 

He climbed up onto the dragons back. Rhaegal took some time to turn around and by the time he had Drogon was screaming from the on top of the roof. Daenerys prayed for him to break through as his brother had, but Drogon had always been one for efficiency. Fool, she thought, you should have just run.

Flames as black as the dragon himself broke through the roof. Dany screamed for Jon to leave one last time, as Drogon and his fire hit the floor, and she watched, almost in slow motion as the room around her turned to bright green flame. 

Fool, he thought over and over as Rhaegal carried him away from the inferno. Just turn around, just turn around and get her. But it was hopeless. No one could survive that no matter how unburnt they were. 

Rhaegal landed in a clearing in their camp. Jon slid off his back and the green dragon took to the air immediately flying back to his mother and his brother. 

“What happen?” A man came running up to him, it was Greyworm. “Where is Queen Daenerys.”

Jon could not speak, the adrenaline was running so high he could barely stand. He looked Greyworm in the eyes then doubled over and threw up into the grass. The unsullied commander bent down and shook him by the shoulders. 

“Where is she?” He shouted. 

Jon only shook his head and pointed to the jeep which was still even now exploding am breaking apart. 

All the men began to run back into the city. The streets were so crowded that they could barely move but it seemed the entire population of Kingslanding was flocking to see what had happened to to the Red Keep. Arya included. 

She was only there for the coronation, but Gendry wanted to see some old friends and she couldn’t begrudge him that. Now the castle was on fire. And Daenerys was inside. They had all seen her go in, and none have seen her go out. Both Dragons had flown to her rescue but only one had flown out. 

When at last she finally broke out of the scrum of people, they all heard the final bang as a giant cloud of green and grey erupted from the Red Keep. And with the flames and the smoke came a dragon. Drogon. He flew straight up into the sky and towards the Dragonpit. 

Arya tried to run with the rest of the crowd but Gendry grabbed her hand. 

“Not with them.” He shouted over the hubbub. “I know a faster way.”

They ran hand in hand through the back alleys and gutters of Kingslanding. After about 10 minutes of running they reached a cave, Gendry pulled a torch of the wall and led her through. Inside her head Arya could only think one thing, let her be alive let her be alive let her be alive. She knew it was hopeless but she had to try, all the lives she had give the Many Faced God, he owned her this one woman. 

As they walked through the cave tunnel, Arya realised that this was the entrance used by the dragon slayers during the riots of Kingslanding during the Dance of Dragons. Which one died in here? She wondered, Tyraxes? Five dragons had died that night so it was hard to remember. She prayed no dragons would die this day. 

They were the first ones into the Dragonpit besides Drogon of course. They were the first to see. Daenerys was lying naked and unconscious on the ground beneath her dragon. Arya ran forwards and removed her cloak, Drogon’s head whipped around and he snarled at her, but she would not back down. She was Arya Stark of Winterfell and she had the wolf blood in her. Drogon took a step back and let Arya see his mother. 

Queen Daenerys was hot to touch and she had many cuts and bruises, the lookings of a broken arm and a deep gash on her head that was the cause of her sleep. But she was breathing. By some miracle she was alive, and unburnt. 

It had been three years since her conquest of Kingslanding, and for the first time in her life, Daenerys felt at peace. The realm was prospering under her and Jon’s rule, even in Winter. She still carried a large scar on her head and several smaller ones on her arms and legs from her time in the wildfire, but other than that she was well. 

She had tried so many times to remember exactly what had happened, but the last thing she remembered seeing was Jon flying away on Rhaegal, and Drogon dropping down to shelter her, as the castle broke around her. After that all anyone knew was that Drogon had emerged from the flames almost 10 minutes after Rhaegal had and he took Daenerys to the Dragonpit where Arya and Gendry carried her to safety before the crowds could arrive. She gave Gendry a lordship for that, he didn’t want it but it gave him a high enough station for Arya to marry him, which she did. 

Daenerys had moved the capital of Westeros to Dragonstone while the Red Keep was still uninhabitable. She had built a new throne too, a much simpler one carved from dragonglass. Now she was flying back to Kingslanding with her newborn son in her arms. Arya told her that princess Alyssa Targaryen had done that with her sons, so Daenerys though she should too. 

As she looked over her shoulder she could see Jon on Rhaegal flying a small distance behind her. They reached Kingslanding within an hour. The people clapped an d cheered just as they had when she first arrived, after all, they were about to meet their future king. 

She landed and the Dragonpit, as was her new custom whenever she visited Kingslanding. She climbed off as carefully as she could, cautious not to drop the babe who was barely 2 weeks old. Many lords and Ladies were already there, standing in the stalls they had erected along the walls so the pit now worked as an amphitheater. 

Arya was at the very front as Daenerys walked forwards, Gendry to the right of her and Nymeria to the left, so most people gave them a wide birth. It was understandable, the direwolf was truly giant, far bigger than ghost. Arya had found her again on her way back down to Winterfell after Daenerys’ coronation. 

Behind Arya were the Martell’s, Tully’s, Hightower’s and Arryn’s. Behind them were the Baratheon’s and Lannister’s. Daenerys had made some low level Lannisport Lannister the new lord of Casterly Rock in the hopes it might subdue the Westerlands, it had. Behind and around the high lords were some of the lesser lords. On the other side of the Dragonpit, the common folk of the crownlands and   
Kingslanding were seated.   
“My good people.” She began once Jon had landed and walked to her side. “I am her today to present our son, the Prince of Dragonstone and the future King of the Seven Kingdoms. Aemon Targaryen!”

The Lords, Ladies and common folk alike, took up the cheer as they clapped and chanted Aemon’s name. Daenerys smiled. This is how it should always be, she decided as she held Aemon up higher, and Drogon and Rhaegal began to sing. 

Suddenly, as Daenerys was about to give another speech, the sound of Drogon and Rhaegal’s voices was joined by another noise, much higher and quieter but it was clear what it was. They all turned to where the sound was coming from. Then, from the still smouldering remains of the Red Keep flew six baby Dragons.

Daenerys left with Jon and her new children immediately. Holding Aemon next to two of his dragon siblings while Jon held the other four.

It took them no time to get back to Dragonstone. They set the six new Dragons down and gave Aemon to the wetnurse. 

The first Daenerys had been holding was blue as the summer sea with silver crest and horns. The second was red as blood with pale pink membranes between its wings and bronze crest and horns. 

Of the four Jon had carried, one was pale grey all over except for his horns and eyes which were black. The second was golden, and seemed to glow brighter than the sun, even its eyes were pools of molten gold. The third was deep indigo purple, fading to violet on its wings and silver on its crest horns and eyes. The last dragon was a pale jade green, with golden eyes and markings.

“What shall we name them?” Jon asked.

Daenerys picked up the golden Dragon. “This one is Missandon, for Missandei.” She looked at Jon to choose the next name.

He chose the grey dragon. “Rhelyra.” 

Dany didn’t need to ask who that was for. The red and bronze she named Johrandor, for Jorah. The blue and silver was Elēdrar, for the tides. Jon chose Jeados, meaning Summer for the green and gold dragon and the indigo and silver they named Hūrenka. It meant lunar in Valyrian.

They sent their new dragons to the skies with their older ones, the wetnurse handing Aemon back to them. Jon leaned over and kissed her. Finally Daenerys knew, she had won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that took so long, I know it’s kinda short and you might wonder why even bother with the wildfire, but I like the idea of the new baby dragons and Drogon laying eggs in the fire, don’t start with the gender stuff cos it’s weird for dragons.
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for reading and I hope you’ve enjoyed it :)

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if you liked any of these characters, I didn’t want to have to kill Missandei off too but it didn’t make sense for he to survive and not Sansa. Also, I have no clue how Davos survived the long night in cannon because he just sort of disappeared when Arya started doing her fighting, then reappeared at the end of the episode when Melisandre died. You’ll get a full list of the dead next chapter if you’re worrying.


End file.
